Multiversal

Moving in and out of each other's lives, quantum-like

A photo of NGC 7635, also called the Bubble Nebula.
NGC 7635, also called the Bubble Nebula, Sharpless 162, or Caldwell 11 Mark Connolly

Many worlds, many worlds, manyworlds.
Quantum wave breaking never taking,
leaving a mirrored darkly self behind, unnoticed goes the split.
My molecules built again, next to you.
Uncertainty in measured value of momentum, stopped,
(however briefly)
and then started again, simultaneously but unseen. Waxing, waning, maybe Big Banging,
stacked on top like Russell’s turtles overhanging.

The scientists say that particles act differently when observed,
moving about in non-expected ways,
like dust motes in beams thru slitted blinds, scattered by a window fully opened
(no Zeno-effected double slit this time?). Schrödinger asked,
What is life?
The original meliorist, poking around the unified,
like a blind man describing the ocean. In the end,
a man with a double wife, and a cat in a parabox.
Universes living quite
estranged, each one slightly changed.

A wave crashing brought my pebble onto this beach (momentarily sun soaked).
My pebble hopefully moving another pebble as eddies curry favor with the sand. What will be next? My atoms dissipate,
a woman’s tear, a single blade of grass, a rock formed into a diamond. Or something less romantic perhaps,
gum on the bottom of a shoe, dogcrap, or the eye of a fish deep in the ocean vents.
Rejecting solipsism,
I spin elliptically around gas balls with the masses, at speeds unfelt and unfeeling it seems.
This one is ours though I mutter to myself, knowing that I just said that again,
and again.
Innumerable the universes are by now (but not without limit). Like an ant with a math problem, can we ken it?

In a dark room, (huddled against your back) feeling full of all these traces, I whisper to you that somewhere there are places,
that I am no longer for that Earth (if you do the math)
or where you and I have never crossed the other’s path. I tell you this in attempted dulcet tones late at night.
And as a precursor to the dark thoughts of that fright. I give you a quick warning,
that if in this universe I am gone in the morning, my atoms no longer responding to the stimuli,
no steadiness perceived in my eye.
That somehow, somewhen we are still together.
And that in one universe at least … we may live forever. But in this one I simply clutch your hand and then,
know our souls will sunder somewhere again.


Chris CoultasChris is back in Mensa after a hiatus of several years. He lives in North Canton, Ohio, with his loving family. He is a proud graduate of Baylor University and also holds professional certificates from MIT and Duke. His interests include hiking, collecting historical memorabilia, and studying the works of Wittgenstein (he is a member of the British Wittgenstein Society) and Camus. He currently works at a large software company, where he has experienced much success and personal growth.
East Central Ohio Mensa | Joined 2004